King stepped from his throne,
In his most dulcet tone,
“Our town you have tried torn,
Unsuccessful your attempt,
Now that Tom Henry is born.�

“For years you had cursed,
That you were born first,
And now you must mourn,
You shall never be King,
For Tom Henry is born.�

The man hopped on his steed,
And most quickly had fleed.
Knew his welcome outworn,
The villagers’ courage returned,
Now that Tom Henry was born.

He saw the curse had been beat,
Began to accept his defeat.
His rightful crown done shorn,
He could never be King,
Now that Tom Henry was born.

Alone in his shack,
The man filled his sack.
“This crown made of thorn,
Is the only I’ll wear,
Now that Tom Henry is born.�

Though his heart did not yearn,
For the village he’d not return,
Fateful day he did mourn,
Lost his chance to be King,
The day that Tom Henry was born.

Through the years the village thrived,
Despite the curse, Tom Henry survived.
The world indeed changed that fateful morn,
The greatest King of all time,
Came the day Tom Henry was born.